Capture the Crown (Gargoyle Queen #1) -Jennifer Estep Page 0,54

far and wide as I could. Are you here?

I waited, but there was no answer, just a buzzing silence in my mind and an empty, aching spot in my heart where the gargoyle’s presence should have been. Panic welled up in my chest, but I forced it down, closed my eyes, and pictured Grimley—his bright sapphire eyes, his arrow-tipped tail, the warm, slightly rough feel of his stone skin.

Something flickered in the very back of my mind, like a match sputtering to life in a cold, dark cave. Gemma, Grimley’s voice whispered, but the sound was faint and far away.

Grimley? Grimley!

He didn’t respond, but at least I felt his presence now, even though it was as light and thin as a strand in a spider’s web. The gargoyle wasn’t here, but he wasn’t all the way back in Blauberg either. Otherwise, I probably wouldn’t have been able to hear or sense him at all. Grimley was probably flying in this direction, trying to find me. My stomach twisted with worry. A dangerous journey, but if anyone could make it, then it was my Grims.

Thinking about the gargoyle reminded me of something else I might be missing. My fingers crept up to my neck, but nothing was there. I patted the front of my chest, my fingers flopping around in my haste. Where was it? Where was it?

A glimmer of blue caught my eye, and my head snapped to the right. My gargoyle pendant was lying on the nightstand beside the bed, along with my dagger. I lurched over, snatched the silver chain, and dropped it down over my head.

The pendant thumped against my chest and settled into its usual spot. My breath hissed out in relief at the slight, familiar weight nestled close to my heart. With a shaking hand, I held the pendant up to the light, looking for any signs of damage, but the black jet and blue tearstone shards were all intact. Still, a worrisome thought bloomed in my mind, wilting my relief.

I hadn’t taken off the pendant. I would never do that, not even in my most injured, addled, delirious state. Someone else had removed the chain from around my neck, as well as the dagger from my boot, and placed them on the nightstand.

Leonidas.

Sick realization flooded my stomach. If he had examined the pendant and the dagger—and how could he not have?—then he had to know who I really was.

I had to get out of here.

I grabbed my dagger off the nightstand, then threw back the blankets, surged up out of bed, stepped forward—

And almost fell flat on my face.

My legs buckled, and I had to grab one of the bedposts for support. My head spun around, and a dull lethargy swept through my body, even though I’d just spent hours—days?—sleeping.

Despite the healing I’d received, I hadn’t fully recovered my strength yet. So I hung on to the bedpost until the room stopped spinning, then took a smaller, slower, more careful step forward. This time, my legs didn’t buckle.

Instead of lurching forward in a blind panic again, I reached out with my magic. I was alone in these chambers, and I didn’t sense any guards posted outside the closed doors at the opposite end of the room. Maybe I could leave before Leonidas returned. He obviously wanted something from me, and I didn’t want to be here when he started asking for it.

So I staggered over and opened the armoire. Tunics, camisoles, leggings, undergarments, and socks were folded on the shelves, while several pairs of boots lined the bottom. Most of the clothes were varying shades of purple—Mortan purple.

My lips curled in disgust, but I stripped off my nightgown (also purple) and dressed in a pale lavender tunic, along with black leggings, socks, and boots. I also shoved my dagger into the side of my right boot.

Next, I staggered over to the vanity table, dropped into the chair, and peered at my reflection in the mirror. My hair was horribly tangled, exhaustion dimmed my blue eyes, and my face was paler than usual.

Seeing my own frightened—and frightful—reflection dulled the sharpest edges of my jumbled emotions. I fisted my hand around my gargoyle pendant and forced myself to draw in slow, deep breaths, just like Alvis had taught me to do whenever I was working on a tricky, intricate jewelry design and needed to steady my hands.

The last of my worry, panic, and confusion dissipated, and I started thinking clearly again. Leonidas hadn’t imprisoned me, which